


Touchpaper

by Gcgraywriter



Series: Paneville [21]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Chubby Neville Longbottom, Daily Prophet, F/M, Five Years Later, Fluff and Smut, Herbologist Neville Longbottom, Hot Neville Longbottom, Hot Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Naked Pansy Parkinson, Oneshot, POV Pansy Parkinson, Professor Neville Longbottom, St Mungo's Hospital, Vaginal Fingering, Wanderlust, Water Sex, Waterfall
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-03-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:06:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23247499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gcgraywriter/pseuds/Gcgraywriter
Summary: Five years after the war and Pansy is still finding it hard to rebuild the family reputation. Between war reparations, helping to rebuild Hogwarts and seeing the sick in St Mungo's Pansy is starting to feel the strain. After being harassed outside by reporters, an embarrassing break down ensues right in the line of a Prophet Journalist's camera.Pansy hides away at a family hunting lodge in Scotland, while the whole thing blows over. Upon walking the grounds she rediscovers the magic of her youth and an unexpected surprise.
Relationships: Neville Longbottom/Pansy Parkinson
Series: Paneville [21]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1721938
Comments: 8
Kudos: 69
Collections: Waterfall Connections





	Touchpaper

**Author's Note:**

> A special thank you to KORAKUNKEL for beta-ing this fic and for general help with the concept. 
> 
> Also, a warm mention to all the lovely people at Hermione's Nook Facebook group chat, without whom most of my new works would not exist.
> 
> If you love Pansy/Neville, join us in the Paneville Support Group on Facebook. Also, keep your eyes open for the Panevi11e drabblefest coming November 2020.

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/187009200@N02/49684292091/in/dateposted-public/)

She was cold. Not cold from the warmth of the air around her, but more the air within. As if there was a vast, cavernous space within her that ached to be filled. She wandered through her self-appointed prison as she contemplated her isolation.

The Scottish hunting lodge had been in her family for generations, its walls as old as the hills that surrounded it. Everything about the place was imposing, from the dark wood panelling that lined the walls, to the historic and deadly tools and weapons that adorned every surface. Even the stag that hung above the mantelpiece had a fearsome glare as though it was furious at the hunter for its sudden and unexpected demise.

She flowed from room to room, looking for something - she wasn’t sure what. She knew she was alone, even the house-elves only visited on weekends to restock and clean. She threw herself down onto a nearby window seat as she looked out into the utterly beautiful wilderness beyond the glass.

It had been her mother’s idea to return here. Since the war five years previous, she had done everything within her power to help remove the smudge from their reputation. War reparations, helping rebuild Hogwarts, visiting the sick in St Mungos... It had been that last attempt that had finally been too much.

She had always hated the place but even more so since the war. It was like death hung from the walls, waiting to descend like a Lethifold. She’d already been thrown off when a few journalists had appeared. They asked questions that she wasn’t ready to answer for herself yet, let alone for the rest of the wizarding public. Then, the mounting anxiety from being in that place reached new levels, and she ended up losing it in front of a camera.

Even now, almost a week later, she covered her face in shame. The photo had been less than perfect, and the report less than complimentary. What little standing and respect she had been able to gain, she had since lost with interest. Self-imposed isolation was probably a good thing.

If it was so good, why did she feel so unsettled? Her ears rang in the silence between the roar of the wind down the chimney. She needed to get out of this prison, maybe a walk would settle her nerves.

She summoned her clothes and shoes and before she had consciously thought about it, she was almost a mile away from the lodge. It was almost as if an invisible force pulled her out, like a mental Accio spell. She slowed and stopped as she tried to reassess how she felt. The air in her short black hair felt freeing and wild as it whipped around her like a boisterous puppy. The sun warmed her, and she smiled unabashedly. The first one in what felt like virtually forever.

She wracked her brain as she tried to remember the last genuine smile she’d had. She couldn’t call it to mind. She remembered her childhood with Draco and Blaise, of running around Malfoy Manor and chasing peacocks. Back when expectations were lower, and she had some semblance of freedom.

She tried to recall any genuine emotion from Hogwarts and struggled. The only one that lingered was the warmth when she thought of the Gryffindor pudding boy, Neville.  
She had always thought that there was something sweet about him; something quiet and intelligent beneath all the disgusting Gryffindor red and gold. She had always thought there was a unique kindness in his eyes. He never seemed to blame the Slytherins for everything that happened, as though he knew what it was like to be tarred with an unbalanced brush.

She pushed thoughts about him away and felt them lift off along with the fluffy white clouds. There was no point thinking about him or the past. She couldn’t go back and change the things she’d said or done, nor would she ever be able to get near him to thank him. He was now one of the wizarding elite; a veritable celebrity, along with the others on the winning side of the war.

She had seen the odd Prophet article here and there, linking him to Abbott or Lovegood. Some said that he had left Britain all together to study abroad but all Pansy knew was that she missed seeing him in the hallways.

In that year leading up to the final battle, she felt like they had managed to connect on some level. Where everyone was fraying at the edges, covered in bruises and beaten into submission, they connected. Their eyes constantly met in the corridors as they passed, their fears shared in those bleak and lonely glances. They looked for each other in a room to make sure the other was safe and no more damaged than before. They had never swapped words, never shared thoughts, but she felt like they had shared emotions and compassion.

Her mind inadvertently wandered to a dark recess, and she tried to turn back but the door had already opened. The enraged Carrows, demonstrating the Dark Lord’s power as they tortured each student in kind. No one was safe from the Cruciatus curse, and the more secrets they felt you had, the longer you would be abused.

Shimmering seconds of relief before the nerve destroying pain returned.

She could still remember the agony coursing through her bones like molten steel filling the marrow. She had sought refuge in the greenhouses and had found it.

Neville, in his ugly knitted cardigan, had provided her with the first and only comfort she could remember. He held her close as she shook and cried, even with his own wounds still fresh. His warmth had been her anchor as they clung together against the world.

She thumbed away the tears that had escaped as she looked around. She had walked further than she had expected, the hunting lodge no longer visible. 

She wasn’t lost, though.

She remembered this place, like a dream, only half-recalled. The flowers looked as they had when she had been younger. She had wandered these hills from dawn till dusk just to escape her home and her parents. With a rising excitement and hope, she rushed forward, her feet carrying her to a place almost forgotten.

She loved that the roar filled the air and bounced off the surrounding trees and hills as she neared. Something about it filled her with hope and wonder, making her feel almost like her younger, freer self again. 

For so long, she thought she had imagined this place. It just didn’t seem to tie in with anything else in her life. The waterfall was astounding, almost ethereal, like a fairy glen. 

Several large stones surrounded a deep, clear plunge pool and the water pummelled the rocks and water as it dropped from a low cliff a few metres above. She half-ran down to it, eager to soak her feet in the water.

After kicking off her shoes, she lowered herself onto one of the stones and pushed her feet into the beautifully clear water. She sighed with contentment for a moment when she recalled her times here. As a child she would strip naked and swim, knowing that no one came here. It was her secret place where she could be herself and shed the world, even her parents didn’t know of its existence. 

The sudden idea of shedding the world was a decidedly tempting prospect.

She looked around out of force of habit, even though she knew no one would be here. She unbuttoned and peeled her blouse off before flinging it behind her onto dry land. She loosened her bra as well and sent that flying after the shirt. With her thumbs, she slid her skirt and knickers down her legs, ignoring her wet toes as she scooped them off and over her head. The feeling of the air on her skin, especially on the areas that were usually covered was scintillating. Her nipples tightened as she smiled with glee. If only the Prophet readers could see her now, scandalous and brazen in her nakedness.

She smirked at that as she pushed off into the water and held her breath as the chill of the water shocked her senses. She knew it was only momentary and she trod water for a few moments as she waited. It didn’t take long for her body to adjust as she began to swim. The careless days of her childhood returned to her, and she wondered whether the treasures she had found were still in the little nook by the base of the waterfall. Pretty stones mostly, that she had discovered whilst out on her walks.

She swam closer and hoisted herself up to see, she smiled to discover there was still a pile of stones right where she had left them. Some of the seeds had established themselves too, the leaves were long gone, but that was to be expected.

A loud splash in the pool behind her forced her around, startled but there was nothing to be seen except for some bubbles on the surface of the water. She held her breath for a moment before a head appeared. The head was covered in dark hair and the shoulders distinctly male. She covered her mouth to save from screaming. 

She stayed still as fear gripped her frame. She was naked and wandless in a pool with a stranger miles away from anywhere. She cursed herself as she observed the man climb out of the pool. Despite her panic, she watched as his muscled back rose from the water, the owner scooping the hair out of his face. Despite her panic, Pansy had to admit that it was a good show. His skin was the colour of pale gold, the colour of skin that would absorb the sun and tan instantly. She had always been jealous of skin like that, her own would glow brighter than fiend fire at the hint of too much sun, and Gryffindor red was certainly not her colour. 

She could see tan lines around his elbows, his forearms hinting at someone who worked outdoors. She wondered whether he had tan lines anywhere else as she mentally urged him further out of the pool. He stopped and turned before he left the pool completely, leaning against the edge. Her heart stopped with a sudden and final thud as she took in the flat stomach. A fine dusting of hair covered his skin and clung to the sculptured curves of his abdominal muscles and pecks. Her mouth was suddenly dry as her eyes came to meet Neville’s.

With a bolt of panic, she plunged back into the water to hide after taking a large gulp of air. She stayed underwater for as long as she could before rising as she tried to compose herself. How could she merge her memories of the sweet, chubby boy with the kind eyes, to the sculpted adonis that shared the pool with her while she was naked?

The strange, masochistic part of her twinged in excitement at the naughtiness of it all. She grew giddy with the idea before the need for air pushed her back up. She rose out of the water and a blush warmed her chilled cheeks when she noticed he had swum closer. Her eyes darted to his broad shoulders. Was that a tattoo that she saw appearing from his bicep? The same strange part of her felt warmth pooling in the pit of her stomach as her nerves sang at his proximity. Holy Mother of Mulciber and all of her Death Eater sons! Is this what dying felt like? 

He smiled at her, and it was the same crooked smile she remembered; his teeth were straighter though, so instead of goofy, he looked mischievous and roguish. His eyes were still kind, but now they twinkled with something else, and she dared to hope.

She hoped he wouldn’t speak. They had gone through school without sharing a word, if they were to talk now, she was sure that it would break the spell. She glanced away coyly as he got ever closer and when she turned back, they were almost nose to nose. His hazel eyes were like a sunny, autumn day in a forest.

She wondered whether he could feel the magic too, that magic that seemed to pull them together, where no words were needed. She watched as his eyes studied hers before darting to her lips. She tilted her head in silent permission, and he took her cue, lowering his mouth to hers.

Neville tasted like caramel, sunshine and lazy Sunday mornings as his lips touched hers. She thought that she could almost feel an electric current running through them. His large hands splayed out on her waist, as though to touch as much skin as possible. She sighed into the kiss as it ignited the fire within her, like touchpaper to a fuse. Suddenly and inexplicably, Pansy felt like his kiss burned her alive from the inside. She slid her hands across his shoulders, feeling the insatiable need to touch the taut skin beneath her fingers.

She gripped him firmly and massaged his muscles as he pressed into the kiss more. She parted her lips and flicked her tongue against his softly before they crashed together.

The distance between them suddenly seemed torturous, as though there was too much space between them. He yanked her close, his massive hands clutching her like a cage. She wrapped her legs around his waist and groaned as she felt his excitement grind against her. She pushed away to look into his eyes, she searched his face as he searched hers. His hazel eyes roved her face to look for one feature that offered any complaint or resistance. She nodded almost imperceptibly, unable to articulate what she wanted; what she needed.

He pulled her close again and pushed her into the stone wall eliciting a throaty groan from her. Now pinned between him and the wall, he released her and pushed his hand between them. She felt his finger gently stroke against her lips beneath the water, and she cried out. The heat pooled in her stomach, growing with excitement. He claimed her mouth swallowing the noises that tumbled out with each panting breath as he teased her with his fingers. Just being touched there seemed to awaken something inside of her.  
She needed more. 

She tapped his arm, and he stopped. She kissed him as though his were the only lips that mattered. She pushed her fingers into his hair and pulled him deeper as she rocked her pelvis. The friction broke them both apart as they gasped in pleasure and frustration. Pansy smiled and nodded again at him, and that was all the encouragement he needed. She felt the head of his cock press against her opening and held her breath as he pushed in.

She sighed with pleasure and relief as he pressed deeper, she moaned into it as every inch of him touched her core. Once seated, they stayed still for a moment, savouring the sensations. He shuddered as he groaned into her neck.

He started to move gently, at first, rocking in and out by millimetres, sending tingles of excitement through her system. She needed more; more friction, more pressure, more speed. She just needed more of him. She rolled her hips greedily in time with him. The sweet agony of it made her bite down on her lip as he sunk back in deeply and then pulled out again.

The rocks behind her dug into her back and bottom as he pinned her to the wall. She wrapped her ankles around his waist, limiting his movements as she started to rotate her hips. He groaned and closed his eyes and Pansy watched as his head fell back, the circular motion did wonders for her too. With every rotation, his head rubbed the core of her, stoking the fire.

She needed more, she tightened her legs and released him before pulling him back in suddenly. The feeling of his cock striking the ball of nerves deep within her drew a loud moan. She felt him watching as he pulled out slowly and then forced his way back in suddenly. The sensations were divine as she cried out to the world. He hammered home again, and she cried out,. the heat building between them as he continued to pound into her.

“Harder, Neville. Please!” She pleaded as she pulled at his hair. Whether it was the begging or the use of his name, he growled deeply as he doubled his efforts. She realised she had broken the spell, but it didn’t matter - she was so close to that shimmering line of release. She felt the pooling heat begin to boil; soon she would bubble over. He continued to pound her into the rock and with each thrust, she climbed another step to oblivion.

“Come for me, Pansy,” He choked out. She nodded as she fell, pushed over by his vigorous thrusting and the sound of her name on his lips. She tightened and spasmed around him as he held her in the water. The blinding, shimmering, divine release coursed through her body like moonlight as she held onto him for dear life. Slowly, she crashed into a boneless stupor as he held her tight.

He smiled at her as she smiled weakly back. He began to move again, his cock feeling even harder than before.

“Did you?” she asked, her voice barely audible over the waterfall’s roar. He smirked and shook his head no as he thrust again. That roguish grin would be the death of her as his eyes dared her for more. Almost straight away, she took up that dare as his head caught the abused ball of nerves within her. She cried out as he groaned, the nerves still tingling from her recent climax. His coarse fingers moved to stroke her breasts as she reached out to grab onto the rock wall behind them. His calloused thumbs started to stroke her nipples in time with his poundings, and she was immediately panting again.

She was going to burn alive as the passion she felt worked through every nerve ending and he dragged her over the edge for the second time. She clung to him tightly as her sex throbbed around him and she heard his ragged breath against her ear as he followed her over. The added stimulation was almost too much as she cried out desperately against him. He groaned with her as she clung to the moment, his hands tangled in her hair.

All too soon, the shuddering stopped, and sense returned. She started to pull away, but he held her close.

“Just a little bit longer, please?” He whispered. She nodded and held him close as she kissed his neck.

It was such a small gesture but so intimate and meaningful that she felt sorrow started to grow in her chest. What had she done? She had ruined everything. She went to move away again, and this time he let her. She caught sight of the anguish in his eyes as she swam back to the shore. If she could just get back to the lodge, she could pretend that this had never happened. She told herself that, but in her heart, she knew different.

“I don’t regret this,” He said as he waded out of the pool behind her. “Not any of it.”

“Well, that’s nice for you,” She replied cuttingly as she started to pull on her skirt, ignoring the water pouring down her skin.

“Would you like to go out for a drink sometime?” He asked awkwardly.

She turned around and glared at him.

“What do you want from me, Longbottom?” She slid her blouse over her drenched skin without bothering with her bra.

“Something, anything.” He offered quietly as he stood naked before her.

“What on earth for? I’m a social leper, you would do well to stay away from me.”

“Do you think I care about any of that?” He retorted, pleadingly.

“You should,” She warned as she picked up the remainder of her clothes and shoes before she started to walk away. 

“Well, I don’t!” He sighed heavily before he spoke again, “Pansy Parkinson, go out with me on a date.”

She stopped as he used her name and closed her eyes. This was going to hurt, she just knew it.

“What would your Grandmother say?” She asked as she turned around to face him. His bright forest eyes rolled in frustration.

“She’d probably say be a gentleman and wear a nice cardigan.”

Pansy couldn’t help the smile that broke out on her lips and the laugh that left her mouth. “I told you I don’t care. I’ve wanted to ask you out since fourth year. Please don’t turn me down.”

“Fine,”

“Is that a yes?” He asked his face bright and hopeful.

“It’s a maybe, it depends on what you have in mind.”

“Dinner? Wine?” He offered.

“Sounds promising, but where? Nowhere serves me anymore.”

“What about here? I’ll bring everything?”

“Here?” She asked, arching an eyebrow sceptically.

“Why not?”

She considered it for a moment as she tried not to let her eyes linger below his waist.

“Alright, when?” She asked.

“How about tomorrow? About sixish?”

“It’s a date,” The smile that broke out on his face was both roguish and full of innocent joy. She finally saw a familiar glimpse of the chubby boy that she’d had a crush on.

“Great! Yeah, um, yeah - brilliant.” He stuttered.

“I’ve got to go,” She said awkwardly as she started to turn.

“Yeah, sure.” He paused, and a shadow flit across his face. “You will come, won’t you?”

She took a deep breath and closed the gap between them. His eyes watched her every movement as she stepped closer and stood up on tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek.

“I promise.” She replied as he hugged her close. “Now, I really must go.”

“Yeah, of course.” He beamed as he let her go.

“See you tomorrow.” She replied. “I can’t wait.”

He waved at her as she started the long walk back to the hunting lodge.

She walked barefoot through the grass as she considered what had occurred, her shoes bouncing in her hands with her steps. The further she got from the waterfall, the more dream-like the encounter became. She touched her lips and smiled, remembering the feel of his on them. 

This self-imposed isolation was a good idea, after all.


End file.
